


Drop The Needle When The Tape Deck Blows

by Circade (CaffeineFeverDream)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), DreamSMP - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Danger Days, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Brainwashing, Colorblindness, Dream Sapnap and Bad are Killjoys, Drug Withdrawal, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, George is a Scarecrow, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, M/M, Slow Burn, dystopian setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeineFeverDream/pseuds/Circade
Summary: George has never seen colors, The City has always been forged in scales of blue, yellow, and brown.  It's fitting to his life and his dead end job, until a stranger and a job promotion give him a whole new perspective.orA loose interpretation of the Danger Days universe with the Dream Team + others.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 3





	Drop The Needle When The Tape Deck Blows

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written in august 2020 and was published with 3 chapters under the title "Shut Up And Run With Me" until I deleted it for reasons I can't remember; I will be editing those 3 chapters (because my writing style has changed a lot since august) and publishing them when I have the time, Danger Days has a soft spot in my heart so I hope to continue this fic past the original 3 chapters.

Monotony was something that George had grown accustomed throughout his life. Between living his entire life in the same place and working the same job for 5 years, every day seemed to go by in a buzz of similarity.

Wake up.

Choke down pills.

Go to work.

Go home.

Go to sleep.

Rinse and repeat. 7 days a week. 365 days a year.

Something was different in the air today however. George followed his usual routine, another boring day filled with the blue light of computer screens and the torture of paperwork. He arrived home as the sun hung low on the horizon; shades of brown and yellow streaming across the landscape, the bright white circle of the sun peering over the looming shadows of skyscrapers. He always hated the sunset; the way the vibrant blue of the sky would morph into a sickly, disgusting, yellow. 

He lays awake in his bed, twisting in turning discomfort. He can’t place why but he feels a pit of dread forming in his stomach. He throws his sheets off his body in frustration, rising from his bed and slipping on a pair of gray sneakers. George sighs, exiting his small apartment with a _slam_ of his door and walking through the trash-ridden streets below. He wasn’t quite sure what compelled him to leave his apartment this late, the light of the sun having faded away hours prior. He paced the cross streets absentmindedly, squinting to see in the dim light of the moon and flickering street lights. 

A shadow catches in the corner of his eye as he returns to his building. His head snaps to the building across the street, eyes moving to where a figure had stood moments before. He blinks at the spot for a second as his eyes adjust and focus on the dirty brick, an image in spray paint stares back at him.

a crude drawing of a smile and a singular word. 

“Dream?” He reads aloud, a light scoff in his tone. He shook his head, snapping a picture of the image on his cellphone before heading to his apartment. He would report it when he got to work the next morning.

* * *

“Dream you’re a fucking idiot” Sapnap half-whispered, half-yelled at his friend who had just appeared, out of breath, in the alley he and Bad were hiding in. “there could be scarecrows everywhere do you ever even think these little ‘missions’ through?” Dream laughed softly, chest heaving from adrenaline and exertion.

“Come on Sapnap, it’s not a big deal we’ll be back in the zones by sunrise tomorrow” Dream smirked under his mask, turning to face his hooded companion. “besides there’s no way anyone saw me, you gotta stay positive, right Bad?” 

“Ugh don’t drag me into your dumb arguments. It’s always a bad idea to come back to The City” Bad replied, Dream’s face morphs into a scowl. He didn’t understand what the big deal was, tagging buildings was mundane, boring. It was practically a grain of sand in a desert when compared to the grand plan of the movement. Sapnap and Bad were just spoilsports. 

The trio left the alley in silence, sneaking past the border wall and heading back into the zones. Their desert home awaited them in the distance, the faint sound of sirens escaping them as they ran; those who lived in the zones followed few rules. 

But they all followed rule number one.

Rule number one was the most important; never look back when leaving The City.

* * *

George hated filing reports, it was easily the worst part of his job. He filled out line after line, checked box after box on the excessively detailed and convoluted graffiti report form. Slugging over to his boss’s office to hand in the stapled pieces of paper. He hated talking to his boss, calling The Director intimidating would be a gross understatement. George knocked lightly on the frosted glass door of his boss’s office.

“Come in.” A harsh voice rings in his ears and he slowly turns the knob to enter the stark, white office.

“Hello, um, ma’am I just wanted to file a report on some strange activity I saw last night” His voice is smaller than he intends. He avoids eye contact with the woman sitting behind the desk in front of him, choosing instead to fix his eye onto the name plate that sat near the edge of her desk; reading and re-reading the words “The Director” before handing the imposing woman his report. “So, um, I’ll be off then and get back to work” he says, hoping he does not have to engage in anymore conversation and turning to leave as she flipped through the pages. Before he can reach the door he hears her stop at the final page of the report, at the picture he had included. She cleared her throat loudly, stopping George in his tracks and causing him to turn back towards her.

“What’s your name again?” She looked him up and down and George could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“George” He replied, swallowing the anxiety that was building in his throat.

“Congratulations George, I’m promoting you to the position of scarecrow unit, you’ll begin your first assignment tomorrow morning, you may go now, I have ordered for case details to be left on your desk along with your new ID card.” she said with a completely deadpan expression, closing the report and tossing it into a file cabinet next to her desk, George opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, he was certainly not expecting to be _promoted_. When he recovered from his momentary shock he spoke softly.

“Thank you, Director, ma’am” he turns and backs his way out of the office without a second glance, making a beeline for his desk.

George could see a parcel sitting next to his computer, _that was quick_. He sits in his desk chair, swiveling slightly from side to side. The truth was he was afraid to open the package, he couldn’t understand why he, of all people, had just been promoted to scarecrow, one of the highest designations at The Company. He took a deep breath as he worked up the courage to open the parcel, tearing the brown paper with shaky hands and pulling out three manilla envelopes, a small ID card, and a white, company issued ray gun and leg holster. His breathing stopped for a second when he saw the gun, he knew all scarecrows were required to carry one at all times, he had just assumed he wouldn’t receive his own until the next morning. He sets it to the side along with the three folders, looking at the ID card and reading its contents.

\-------------------------------------------------

_S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W UNIT_

_George - M - 23_

_ID# 404_

_This card designates that the holder_

_may gain access to any necessary_

_equipment or credits when pursuing_

_Killjoys or enemies of The City._

\-------------------------------------------------

That’s all George needed to read for a familiar sense of dread to come crashing over him. He now held one of the most coveted positions at The Company.

He should be happy.

He had been bestowed the honor of protecting The City from radicals and terrorist killjoys like the person he’d seen defiling buildings the night before.

He should be happy.

He should feel honored, he shouldn’t feel like his life was taking a downward spiral, he shouldn’t be afraid. 

He should be happy… 

With shaky hands, he gathers his case files, planning to read through them once he got back to his apartment. In the midst of his anxiety he had lost track of time and the sun was setting quickly. He clips the ID card to his belt loop and secures the holster around his leg, quickly shoving the ray gun into it. 

A chill greets him as he exits his workplace, right now he needs to focus on going home and getting a good night's rest. He holds the folders close to his chest with one hand; the other hovering over the holster on his leg. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. The sunset bathed the city in brown and yellow light, every trace of blue slowly disappearing.

The yellow light cascades on the building across from Georges apartment, the smile that stares back at him seems to mock his every move. He scowls, turning sharply away from the image.

He hates sunsets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment your thoughts down below. I'd love to know if people are even interested in reading this type of story.


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